


Thro' Midnight Streets

by Dameceles



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Alternate Universe, Class Differences, Dubious Morality, Gen, Intrigue, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Period Typical Attitudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-20 16:53:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11339529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dameceles/pseuds/Dameceles
Summary: In the city of Macarath there's a forgotten, bastard child. King Garon was well known for sewing wild oats far and wide. If he played his cards right, Niles could act as guardian and patron for the next prince of Nohr. And nothing was more entertaining than a good power play. [social class swap AU]





	Thro' Midnight Streets

**Author's Note:**

> For the [Leoniles gift exchange](https://twitter.com/hashtag/leonilesexchange?src=hash) on twitter, I took the prompt "Class Swap" and ran too far with it. I hope it's still enjoyable, even if Leo has the lamest street name on the planet. The title comes from a line of the poem "London" by William Blake.
> 
> Warning: dark subject matter is referenced (injury, natural disasters, drug use, prostitution). This is told from Niles' POV if he was a power-hungry Nohrian noble and isn't a fluffy story.

Macarath was said to be the city that never sleeps, lit with ever-burning fires that rivaled Hoshido's sun-lit days. An ironic assumption as Nohr's darkness was perpetual, and the city's lanterns glowed with magic which apprentice mages had to tend lest they go out. Still, many were drawn to the city and its lights, like moths to a flame. Or rather, they were drawn to its many entertainments which never shuttered their doors no matter the hour.

Niles, like any native Macaran, was always up for a good time. Much to his mother's shame, at the tender age of twenty he already had a reputation for being loose with both purse-strings and having dipped his wick in many a place. Not ideal for a Duchess' heir, but Niles considered it even trade in how his life was dictated in almost every other way.

He'd played his part as the dutiful lordling that day, working hard listening to the complaints of the too-comfortable and pushing papers to appease them. Now that the dark belonged to the night Niles decided he’d earned a little entertainment. Not a casino, bordello, or the arena— while those locales had their appeal but had grown a little tiresome with familiarity. Tonight he'd decided to do something different, something new, while chasing down a rumor. His destination was the poorest outskirts of the city.

He'd dressed down for the occasion, using the advice of his mates for the newest fashionable practice: slumming. Noble persons of the higher classes shed their fine clothes to don rags to traverse the slums and observe the lives the lower classes while disguised. It could be a spectacle akin to watching birds in a cage, or a less harmless sampling of illicit pleasures. His own trip to the slums was with the aim to locate one particular inhabitant, but found himself too curious to not explore the new surroundings.

However, Niles' adventure thus far had been dull, frankly. Unlike Windmire the streets of Macarath didn't teem with criminals, thus the Disrobing Gale tome he'd brought for safety's sake had gone unused. Mostly he'd walked and been ignored by those who lived slums, crowded together and in abject squalor. Raised voices and shrill screams leaked from the many doorways, most of the time the words too rushed for Niles to make any sense of them. Gaunt women with heavily made-up faces and scanty clothing lingered on the street corners. They were the only ones who tried to stop him with bedroom eyes and petting hands— all but feigned tripping on the cobblestones and falling against him. Although bolder than courtesans, it was just as easy for Niles' smile to grow sharp enough that they thought better and left of their own accord.

It was only when he encountered a group of skinny children playing along the streets with not toys but instead rocks and sticks, that he came to a halt. A few of them ran off after noticing a stranger looking their way, but the braver ones continued playing with just a wary glance thrown over their shoulders. As nonchalantly as he could, Niles leaned against the least dirty wall in the vicinity and made himself comfortable. He fetched a piece of parchment covered honeycomb from his beltpouch and broke a bite off. This action had snagged the tallest child’s attention, who abandoned her pile of rocks to slowly approach him. Pretending to be unaware, Niles popped the chunk into his mouth, sucked until the honey was gone, then chewed the remaining wax before spitting it out.

“…’ello,” the child called out, in the corner of his eye he saw that she an arms’ length away. The girl clearly didn’t trust a stranger like himself, but the sweet Niles held proved too tempting to resist. Just as he’d hoped.

“Hello there,” he replied, finally turning to look at her. He held out the parchment in one hand, the comb oozing its honey. “Would you like a taste? There’s more here than I can handle.”

The child craned her neck and shuffled her feet, but didn’t take a step closer. Instead she asked with a frown, “Whaddaya want fer it?”

That made him smile. Unlike the entitled brats at court, this girl understood the give and take of the world. Niles answered, “I want to find someone, and I’d like you to help me. I don’t know the name, but he’d have lost an eye recently.”

The girl’s eyes lit up. “I know ‘im! He’s call’d Lion.” Niles couldn’t help but snort at the absurdity of the moniker. “An’ he’ll be at the sawbones fer sure.”

It didn’t sound like a lie, so he said, “Take me there and you’ll get this entire honeycomb.”

The child nodded so fiercely that her pigtails bobbed with the motion, and the led him through the winding alleyways until they reached a door painted blood red. With a quick thanks Niles handed the waxy treat to the girl and left her to happily gorge herself.

The door swung in on groaning hinges, and he was hit with the sour smell of medicinal herbs. He managed to hold in coughs as he navigated the overstocked shelves. Words from someone out of sight reached his ears.

“You _have_ to give me something for the pain. I can barely walk straight.”

“That’s cause of your limited sight. And I’m not giving you anything more til you pay your tab.”

The sound of something hard and wooden being knocked over made a loud clatter.

“Why should I reward you for taking my eye! You’re supposed to be a healer!”

“It was already half-gone by the time you got here, the only fix was to get rid of what was left. Lion, you should thank me for saving your miserable life!”

Niles reached the back of the room in time to witness the end of the argument. It was two men: one middle-aged in grungy healer’s garb, the other had a youthful voice with a bow and quiver of arrows strapped to his back, his head covered by the hood of his cloak. They stood separated by several long table between them. It was the former that yelled the last words he’d heard, but a moment later the latter grabbed a knife off his belt. Without another thought, Niles reached for a clay pot and knocked it onto the ground— it broke apart with a spectacular crash.

Lion flinched as he threw the knife, his aim completely off. The blade went wide, hit the back wall, and skittered somewhere out of sight. However rather than coming at the young man, the healer shouted at Niles, “What’re you doing!?”

“How clumsy of me,” Niles untied a coin-purse and tossed it onto the table. “This should cover that, and Lion’s tab. Go and get the medicine he wanted.”

Both of them stared in disbelief for a moment, then the older man snatched up the purse and moved to pursuing a set phials on the shelves.

The younger man turned, only the lower half of his face visible. He frowned as he said, “I don’t need your money.”

“Who would pay for an archer who can’t walk straight, let alone hit a target?”

Niles saw his hands ball into fists, he’d obviously hit a sore spot. He needed to see the youth’s face, confirm whether or not he’d caught the golden goose. So when the healer returned and handed him a phial, he decided to take a gamble. Extending his hand holding the phial, much like he’d done before with the honeycomb, Niles said, “Although, I might be willing to hire you, Lion. Show me your face and I’ll hand this over, no strings attached."

The young man’s frown deepened, but after hesitating flipped back the hood of his cloak— revealing a swath of bandages over his left eye, the dressing not precisely fresh but obviously covering a recently gained wound. Lion’s intact eye glared at Niles with a keener intelligence than most courtiers possessed. It was difficult to guess his precise age with the gauntness caused by hunger at odds with childish roundness of his facial shape. Although Niles bet that getting a steady diet of food into him would bring out the fierce angles of new growth rather than the fat cheeks of boyhood.

Niles was given a peek of pink tongue when he licked cracked lips and asked, "Is my face good enough for you?"

Nodding, Niles motioned for him to come close and handed over the promised medicine. Lion’s fingers trembled as he took the phial, and he wasted no time in uncorking it then swallowing its contents down. The healer watched them with open suspicion, so Niles suggested they take their business elsewhere and surprisingly the young man trailed after him without protest. He just as meekly followed him through the slum streets and into a different district of Macarath, perhaps made unnaturally calm by the pain killer he’d just drank down.

Niles wasn’t about to ask and possibly inspire disobedience, so he took them to an inn, purchased a room, and ordered a hot bath to be drawn. Before they went up he order two bowls of stew and watched as Lion practically inhaled it, then gave him the other bowl which was emptied just as quickly. He bid the youth go up first and make use of the tub. That had Lion frowning but he didn’t argue, just stood and headed to the stairs.

Niles stayed at the table, ordering a flagon of beer to sip as he waited and thought. A rumor had reached the palace, that a quake in the slums that’d caused buildings fold in on themselves like they'd been built from cards hadn’t been a natural disaster. Instead it claimed that the event had occurred a particularly rowdy bar fight broke out and street rat lost an eye. Niles had look at maps of the area, including copies of royal charters— it’d have to had been the work of a Dragon’s Vein.

If the young man he’d found was indeed connected to the rumor, he was convinced that Lion must be a forgotten, bastard child of the royal family. As crazy as that sounded, King Garon was well known for sewing wild oats far and wide. For such a child having been discovered and introduced to Nohr's high court had already happened more than once. If he played his cards right, Niles could act as guardian and patron for the next prince of Nohr. And nothing was more entertaining than a good power play.

Once he’d drained the flagon he finally left the table and climbed the stairs to the rented room. He knocked before entering and locked the door after it shut behind him. When he turned around, however, he was taken by surprise.

Niles was shoved against the door as Lion brought his mouth down over his own, and took advantage of his shock to deepen the sudden kiss. His shock didn’t last long. Fortunately Niles was half a head taller and able to break the kiss by leaning back.

He caught him by the shoulders and said, “Wait, wait.”

“Isn’t this what you hired me for?” Lion scowled, but backed off.

After a proper bath and in better lighting it turned out he was attractive, no matter the flaw of a missing eye. Blond hair that the more poetic might compare to gold. Pale skin that no longer looked sickly now that the hot water had brought a rosy flush over his face. The dark color of his one good eye stood out all the more, like a drop of ink on a sheet of white parchment.

If Niles had been a worse man he might've changed his mind and bedded the boy. Instead he shook his head and said, “That wasn’t my intention, tempting as you are.”

Lion’s scowl deepened, "Then why'd you drag me here?"

Niles released his shoulders and tried to make himself as nonthreatening as possible as he said, “The quake, I did a little investigating. You can do other spectacular things can't you?”

“What's it matter what I can do, I'm half-blind,” Lion muttered, tone disgusted.

“It matters when the one-eyed man can be king. You used a Dragon’s Vein, you’re royalty.”

"Are you mad? I don’t have any family." Lion’s eye went wide, then narrowed. "So that's what you want from me? To make me a prince?"

"That depends on you. I'm not about to waste time and money if you're unwilling." Niles fought a smile as he knelt in a proper bow. “I’d be honored to help you rise to your proper place.”

"…you're stupid if you think a bastard can be king. There's the Crown Prince, and all those princesses," Lion scoffed.

Yet he’d hesitated before speaking, and that’s how Niles knew he was interested. Slowly, he reached out and took Lion’s pale hand in his and kissed the back of it. "Don't worry about them, that's my problem. All I'd want is for you to recover comfortably and learn to be a prince."


End file.
